Angel was becoming very upset with Melinda, standing around doing nothing, and her lack of enthusiasm was only scaring away the cars. “Do you know what the fuck you’re doing?”
“Yah... I spread my legs don’t I?! What more do I need to know?”
“What’s with you tonight? You’ve been dogging it ever since we got out here. And now you’re scaring away the cars.”
“I don’t wanna do this.”
“What do you mean you don’t wanna do this? What do you think you’ve been doing for the past two weeks, huh!?”
“I know. And that’s why I can’t do this anymore.”
Angel looks at her in disgust.
“Look, I never asked you to help me. The only reason you’re doing it, is ’cause you feel sorry for me”
“Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care. You don’t want my help, that’s up to you. But if you think I’m gonna keep feeding you, while you sit around on your skinny ass doing nothing, you’ve got another thing coming!”
Angel could see that Melinda was having a very hard time adjusting to working and living out on the street. “Look...I know this isn’t easy for you. And I know sometimes it can be pretty rough...But I swear sometimes you’re doing this to me on purpose, just to mess with my head. So, if all you’re gonna do is sit there, the least you can do is spot for me. If that’s not too much to ask? Alright?”
Melinda looked at her and nodded.
A car pulled up to the curb. Angel walks up to the car. “Hi there. Are you looking for a little company?... No, she’s taking a bit of a break today, you know, girl problems. But I’m available. You interested?” Angel opened the car door and climbed inside. She rolled her eyes up at Melinda, shook her head and half-heartedly waved.
Angel said that it all came down to four things: lips, hips, tits, and ass, but not necessarily in that order. And whatever opinions I had, I should keep to myself, because the only thing I was getting paid for was laying on my back. She also said that life was like a bologna sandwich, but without the bread, and that a day without booze was like a day without sunshine. And the worst part about mornings, was waking up to the ghost of Johnny Walker.
“Are you stoned?”